24 December 2017

Violinist
Lindsey Stirling's 2017 holiday release Warmer in the Winter uses
surprisingly modern arrangements to bring a fireside medieval
wink, opening the whimsy with the sharp youthful notes of Dance of
the Sugar Plum Fairy. There are
some sophisticated, intense moments amid the edgy ad libs, but
this remains a recognizable welcome and festive rendition before
You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch featuring Sabrina Carpenter.
This is cute – it doesn't seem like an adult song and that fits the
swanky, toe tapping millennial pop. The instrumental orchestration
works almost in duet with the modern vocals, creating groovy rock
that matures the cartoon lyrics. Likewise Stirling's original
Christmas C'mon with Becky G is pleasant and catchy, if a
little too contemporary holiday pop generic. This bubble gum style is
not my favorite, and this sounds like something you can hear any time
of year despite the seasonal phrases. I dare say there was no need
for any guest vocalists on Warmer in the Winter. Shaking
up the instrumentals with voice distracts from the swift
violin and spirited concert magic. I also wish the ominous
medieval seriousness ofCarol of the Bells
was longer. The rousing titular chimes invoke a magical sprinkle as
the impressive strings build the familiar crescendos.

The
violin also takes on the voice of Angels We Have Heard on
High, and the longest
track on Warmer in the Winter hooks the listener with its
backing choirs as the heavenly melody hits home the glory. Sometimes
the ad libs away from the traditional notes stray into something
unrecognizable – you momentarily stop and check the track title to
confirm this is still the same song. Thankfully, the aura is so
pleasant regardless, and the big notes come around beautifully.
Although it is the shortest track, I Saw Three Ships is
a lively, festive little jig enticing us to clap along, tap
our toes, and break into some Lord of the Dance if
we knew how. This rendition also segues into some medieval badassery
with a Game of Thrones meets
“God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman” interlude. However, the
medley's so fun its okay. A tune can be reverent and still have a
little fresh winter intensity. It's a pity though that the tracks
aren't titled to reflect when there are a few carols intermixed in
one tune. Let It Snow continues the idyllic charm with the
strings again mirroring the breezy lyrics so listeners can sway or
hum along. The traditional Old World meets modern unusual ritzes up
the orchestration with Big Band styling – showing Stirling's
talented range and instrumentation. A whiff of “Rudolph the Red
Nose Reindeer” peppers the track before a “New York, New York”
topper in the big finish. The titular Warmer in the Winter with
Trombone Shorty is another original with all the merry talk of
cookies, pajamas, and snuggling up. The brass is catchy and the tags
will get stuck in your head. There's nothing wrong with these vocal
tracks – all of them are worthy of plenty holiday air play.
Unfortunately, they aren't the standout tracks of the album, probably
because they try so hard to be, and the violin concertos are just
better at the seasonal spirit than the pop.

The
still resonance of What Child is This is
simply lovely, with each lingering
note invoking its medieval origins. Without lyrics, this can be
“Greensleeves” or the Creche, and the sweeping concert movement
tugs our heartstrings either way. This may be the best of Warmer
in the Winter, as
it encapsulates the
Old World cum new musical technology without being bombastic or over
the top. The instrumental simplicity lets the meaning of the music
speak for itself and that's an amen. Maybe it's surprising to hear
the more recent All I Want for Christmas as an
instrumental – because let's be honest, the Mariah original is a
pretty unbeatable gem. We know the refrains, and the violin again
becomes the voice to which we can sing along as we dance about the
tree. This lively again succeeds better than the Stirling and Co.
Time to Fall in Love featuring Alex Gaskarth. The millennial
delivery immediately dates the song to a generic holiday hip
interchangeable with the other originals despite the different guest
stars. The unique violin rhythms would have better served more of the
edgy instrumental carols, and Warmer in the Winter proves
you can have serious musical reverence and kick it up a notch. The
breezy nostalgia of Jingle Bell Rock updates the mid
century jive for listeners young and old, doing the hip timeless
right with a touch of “The Man with the Bag” before going full
swing with a whiff of “Sing Sing Sing” to the Bell Rock.

Silent
Night is
a worthy finale closing Warmer in the Winter
with backing arias and quiet but no less stirring violin strength
building the candlelit emotion of the season. Of course, as albums
often do these days, different exclusives are available on the Target
deluxe edition including We Three Gentlemen – a refreshed
“We Three Kings” with a hint of “Carol of the Bells” mixing
the gothic mood with more ethnic beats for impressive ancient meets
millennial medley. Likewise O Come Emmanuel harkens the season
with backing octaves and mellow strings holding the big notes. It's
an interesting add on to finish Warmer in the Winter with this
traditional Advent invitation, but this bonus finale is also fitting.
The jolly is over and now the rousing reverence has begun. Despite
some soundalike holiday pop, this fifty minutes flies by with a well
paced mix of something festive for everyone. The chart topping
seasonal pleasantries, merry holiday tunes, and spirited carol
strings make Warmer in the Winterthe
perfect soundtrack for one and all to wrap, bake, and trim the tree.

22 December 2017

Welcome
to the last of our Top Tens series in celebration of I
Think, Therefore I Review's
Tenth Anniversary!

These
monthly countdowns highlight special themes and topics from our
extensive archive of reviews, and now we end this celebratory year
back where our critiquing began as this
time
I Think, Therefore I Review presents
in chronological order...

Please
see our Bee Gees tag for much,
much more or browse our Music label for further
analysis!

I
Think, Therefore I Review began
as the blog home for previously published reviews and reprinted
critiques by horror author Kristin Battestella. Naturally older
articles linked here may be out of date and codes or formatting may
be broken. Please excuse any errors and remember our Top Tens will
generally only include films, shows, books, or music previously
reviewed at I
Think, Therefore I Review.

John
Fain (Richard Boone) and his gang – featuring fast gun O'Brien
(Glenn Corbett), crusty Pop Dawson (Harry Carey Jr.), and the machete
wielding John Goodfellow (Gregg Palmer) – injure Jeffrey McCandles
(Bobby Vinton) and abduct his son Little Jake (Ethan Wayne) after a
violent massacre at the McCandles ranch to open 1971's Big
Jake. Matriarch Martha
(Maureen O'Hara) knows this kidnapping is more than the army or the
Texas Rangers can handle, so she telegrams her estranged husband Big
Jake McCandles (John Wayne), who sets out to find the young boy along
with his bitter older son James (Patrick Wayne), the progressive,
motorcycle riding younger son Michael (Christopher Mitchum), longtime
Apache tracker Sam Sharpnose (Bruce Cabot), and his dog...Dog.

Photo
slides, black and white footage, and newsreel style narration fill
the audience in on Big Jake's
1909 setting, for the cosmopolitan East has moved into the
twentieth century while the lawless Old West is still populated with
desperate men living in the past. As a sophisticated pillar of the
community wealthy with staff, finery, and new technology such as 1911
experimental pistols, the McCandles spread is an easy target for the
lingering hang 'em now and ask questions later gunslinger infamy. The
similarly crusty versus next generation attitudes also have several
interesting dramatic clashes – the pups are ready to leave all the
old ways behind but lovely conversations on when the West was free
and buffalo plentiful recall the fading pioneer spirit. The trouble
with Big Jake is that the picture never decides if it is going
to be a gritty, regretful piece or a teach these youngin's a lesson
comedy. Brutal violence and bloody action set pieces are meant to
lure younger audiences with explosive automobiles, motorcycle feats,
and wild shootouts. The picture doesn't stay this way, however, but
trades the western aggression for a seventies audience with a
humorous horseback road trip where quips are rampant and every son
takes a humble on the chin – no matter how old he is. Neither of
these schools is bad at all. Sure, the choreography is at times
nonsensical and the gore uneven, but the stunts are entertaining.
Those quips also, are to die for – from every “Dog!” to the
repeated response to Big Jake as “I thought you were dead?” (“The
next person who says that, I'm going to shoot, so help me.”)
Familiar John Ford company casting and real life father and sons
interplay add to the winks as horror worthy scary zooms and
escalating score elevate the knife wielding violence. Unfortunately,
all of these elements just don't quite go together. Big Jake may
have had too many cooks in the kitchen with aging director George
Sherman (The Comacheros) and John Wayne's behind the scenes
influence. Wayne is said to have directed when Sherman could not, and
it's believable thanks to the film's polarizing tones – which also
seem bent on recapturing McLintock's past successwith
confusing ties to 1970's Chisum and
Rio Lobo thanks to
repeated Batjac cast and crew. Big Jake's
ending is also incredibly abrupt with no resolution to any of the
violence or deaths and no return follow through compared to the
lengthy McCandles Ranch assault that started everything. The rousing
action score is woefully out of place in swelling over the final
still frame – an all smiles portrait that would have us believe Big
Jake was a happy family bonding experience. Fortunately, the
individual confrontations and rivalry moments rescue the uneven pace
and mixed narrative with Big Jake remaining
infinitely watchable so long as you enjoy the pieces rather
than analyze the whole.

Let's
admit John Wayne is old and looking past his prime in Big Jake,
but that's on form for the
eponymous character – who still has enough wallop to his
punch, point to his aim, discipline for his sons, and chess game
versus the bad guys. Jacob McCandles knows what he is doing has risks
but he will do it to save a kidnapped boy. He acts gruff, but Big
Jake has an underlying tender, as seen in his rescue of a lynched
sheep herder and his embarrassment over wearing reading glasses. Big
Jake is surprised to hear his grandson is named after him and takes
pride in his sons' respective grit – different grades though each
of them may be. Wayne has several great one on ones in the battle of
wills with Boone, and point blank there should have been more of the
criminally underused Maureen O'Hara as Martha McCandles. Rather than
an ongoing wink at their film partnership in the likes of Rio
Grande, The Quiet Man, andMcLintock, the briefly seen rocky McCandles' relationship
becomes more like stunt casting a la mellow crooner Bobby Vinton as
the third but essentially forgotten by the end of the movie McCandles
son. Bruce Cabot's (King Kong) lovely
Apache Sam Sharpnose starts cliché as if this were a John Ford
cavalry picture from twenty years prior. However, Sam becomes
realistic in his wear and tear. He's old, catching one of his quarry
but not both. Sam remembers the buffalo and the good old days but has
enough crafty up his sleeve when Big Jake needs it. He's loyal,
reliable, and essential to this mission. Big Jake might
have been neat as just a buddy picture – one last hurrah with an
appearance from good old Hank Worden (The Searchers)
of course. And seriously, shout out to the two collies from
the Lassie/Weatherwax family who
portrayed Dog. The animal choreography is well done, enabling Dog to
assist Big Jake honorably with his own special canine zeal.

Gang
leader John Fain has a plan, a darn good plan, and poncho wearing
Richard Boone (Have Gun, Will Travel) is
delightful in this last outlaw heist. It looks like he's
succeeding at this cat and mouse for most of Big Jake, too.
He's calling the shots and is
always one step ahead. We believe his ruthless – Fain's black hat
stands up to Big Jake's long shadow as two relics of an earlier age.
It's great to see their tactics and threats turned, and fellow
John Ford Stock Company veteran Harry Carey Jr. (She Wore a Yellow
Ribbon) is unrecognizable as Fain's icky old henchman Pop Dawson.
Pop is the nasty flip side to good old Sam, however, this villainous
gang is both reasonably big enough for its killer kidnapping task as
well as unfortunately too big to feature all of its members. Glenn
Corbett (Route 66) is in only a handful of unnecessary scenes,
adding some kind of angry “half-breed” history to Big Jake
that goes nowhere while wonderfully nasty machete man Gregg
Palmer (The Shootist) also has precious few scenes to develop
his vile. After the opening violence, both gang members seem absent
for most of the movie until featured moments in the final act that
have these supposedly so bads quickly and easily dismissed. It might
have been interesting if Corbett's O'Brien had some kind of personal
enemy history with Patrick Wayne's James McCandles, mirroring each
troop's members while further developing each son's parental issues.
The two played brothers in Shenandoah, but
sadly, their late fast draw duel becomes a blink and you miss
it moment in the rushed finale.

Speaking
of Patrick Wayne, as a kid I loved him in Sinbad and the Eye of the Tigerand The People That Time Forgot. He was good
looking, had charisma, and did branch out into other roles, but
unfortunately Patrick Wayne will probably always be considered as
getting a free pass just for being John Wayne's son. That's perhaps
never more so than here with Patrick playing Big Jake's angry elder
son, and the family in joke adds a lot of cranky fun. James
sarcastically calls Jake “Daddy” and mocks his reputation as a
womanizer as difficult to believe. We understand why he has a chip on
his shoulder, and there is some character development as James goes
from being embarrassed by his dad tossing him in the mud puddle
(“Since you don't have any respect for your elders, it's time
somebody taught you to respect your betters!”) to mastering the
prototype pistol and fighting side by side with Big Jake. Of course,
there is no resolution to the bonding – we don't know if Jake
stayed on the ranch assisting James or if the sons joined their
father roaming the remnants of the West. Though I loved Christopher
Mitchum (Rio Lobo) for a hot minute, too, it's easy to suspect
his out of place casting was likewise because he's Robert Mitchum's
son. His Michael is the younger, hip child with the latest gadgets
and style, but his delivery is out of sync with everyone else.
Michael learns how to get rough and tumble with his weaponry in their
quest, but teaching him to kill and beating him up a few times seems
like a backward journey for the character. Honestly, there should
have been only two or even one McCandles son – imagine Big Jake on
the trail with a progressive son who is at angry at him and willing
to get radical with his neat gear to save his own kidnapped son.
That's tension!

The
aforementioned violence in Big Jake is
also bemusingly uneven. People rise up from a perfectly safe
hidden location to take aim at the bad guy who's ready and waiting to
shoot. Sometimes the resulting gunfire is bloody with superfluous
blow back and exaggerated destruction, yet other casualties merely
slump over with no clear wounds indicating injury. Is it a technical
error or uncertainly about what was allowed in a post-The Wild
Bunchgenre? Bandaged legs and
arms in slings look worse then they are with injured men immediately
up and running back into the fray. Fortunately, all the western
styling is here with fitting ranches, stables, horses, and rugged
Northern Mexico scenery. O'Hara's lovely Gibson Girl frocks,
feathers, and parasols invoke a turn of the century modern, but the
sweet new supposedly better than horses automobiles turn out to be
none too practical for the roughness on the Mexican border. That
motorcycle leaping over quarry and skirting enemy mounts is dandy,
but not knowing how to handle that gas pistol isn't. Even Little Jake
is dressed in one of those tiny Fauntleroy suits – giving cowboy
hat wearing Big Jake a double take when he sees him. Despite the back
and forth and weak conclusion, Big Jake does tie the old
versus new together well with veteran wit, fast draws, and
sharpshooting plans coming together amid the traditional western
knock 'em drag out. The seemingly serious kidnapping plot, violence,
bloody shootouts, and machete implications may be tough viewing for
super young audiences. However, the lack of dramatic resolution means
Big Jake isn't the dark,
heavy western it initially appears to be. Personality, zingers, and
lighthearted moments put the big names head to head in charming, if
not properly strung together vignettes that remain entertaining.
Flaws and uneven tone aside, Big Jakeis
an enjoyable piece for John Wayne fans, western audiences, and
movie lovers looking for some old school cool.

15 December 2017

This
trio of recent music documentaries highlighting classic cool subjects
is all about sex, drugs, and rock n roll – with some vinyl, music
genius, depression, and shop talk bandied about for good measure.

The Beach Boys: Making Pet Sounds
– This fiftieth anniversary hour revisits the 1966 album's
inception, recording, and legacy with Brian Wilson, Mike Love, Al
Jardine, Bruce Johnston, and David Marks amid interviews with fellow
musicians, engineers, and music historians. Surfboards, classic cars,
and board shorts add to California Sound nostalgia, and familiar
notes from the likes of “Surfin' Safari,” “Little Deuce Scoop,”
“Surfer Girl,” and “California Girls” anchor the archive
photos and video footage with the late Carl and Dennis Wilson as
conversations at the piano and chatting in studio revisit childhood
inspirations, early harmonizing, surf hits, and rigorous touring.
Such tough travel broke Brian Wilson down, thrusting him into the
studio at home for the titular sessions that would turn the group
from sunny pop to something more serious with my favorite “Wouldn't
It Be Nice,” “God Only Knows,” “Sloop John B,” “I Just
Wasn't Made for These Times,” “Here Today,” and more. This
mostly track by track story is told quickly without a narrator
slowing the intimate pacing, first hand facts, and reflections waxing
on the musical experimentation, complex songwriting, and sixties
influences like The Kingston Trio, Rubber
Soul, and the Spector Wall
of Sound. Original recording samples and isolated vocals or backing
tracks break down the song constructs while debating the significance
of that term 'musical genius' and dabbling with acid or LSD. Band
arguments about the concept album as art rather than sticking to the
repetitive commercial formula are also recalled amid the then
progressive use of female studio musicians, unique sound
developments, lyrical impressiveness, and sublime expressions of self
in song. Mismarketing mistakes and lack of company support hampered
the eponymous release at the time, however it's interesting to hear
British music experts discussing The Beach Boys now respected legacy
and influence – because we probably tend to thing Brits in the
sixties were preoccupied with that other group that begins with The
Bea... Perhaps viewers need to be familiar with Brian Wilson and Co.
or mid century music trends before The British Invasion to keep up
with the reflective dialogue and album timelines, but there are some
great insights to disprove millennials who may dismiss this music as
nothing more than Kokomo, John Stamos on the Bongos, or that Beach
Boys Baywatch
episode. This feature gives newer listeners a tip of the iceberg
education in how rock and roll became a 'religious experience' while
escorting longtime fans and baby boomer down memory lane.

Janis: Little Girl Blue –
Music as creation, imagination, and rhythm quotes accent archive
footage and feisty concert video to open this 2015 feature length
documentary. However, the zany performances and fashion flair are
countered with speeches on loneliness and voiceover letters debating
talent versus ambition and the need to be loved or proud of yourself.
Tearful recollections with family and friends mirror our subject's
sad turn aways from the camera and disliking of her appearance as
childhood photos, personal writings, and rare artwork anchor tales of
bucking the old fashioned southern ways with a brash beatnik
personality. The early Austin scene had its own bullying and lack of
acceptance with Joplin voted winner of an ugliest man contest. Pain
already influenced her songs – creating a constant need for a tight
knit group of friends to tell her she was 'hot shit.' Moving to San
Francisco in 1963 leads to Monterey encounters with Bob Dylan and
Otis Redding, but bad boyfriends and conflicted lesbian leanings
spiral into drug use, interventions, heartbreaking love letters
unanswered, and a desperate seeking of happiness in any form.
Additional writings apologize to her parents for not being who they
wanted her to be, but Joplin finds counterculture camaraderie with
Big Brother and the Holding Company and being true to herself on
stage. Music journalists, sixties compatriots, and rare confessions
from Dick Cavett recount bad record contracts, dalliances, rifts with
the bad, and trouble to stay sober before Joplin's breakout at the
1967 Monterey Pop Festival. Stunning renditions of “Ball and
Chain,” “Piece of My Heart,” “Summertime,” “Trust in Me
Baby,” “Work Me Lord,” “I Need A Man to Love,” “Cry
Baby,” and of course “Me and Bobby McGee” define her quest to
be a star alongside
studio behind the scenes, concert montages, and constant pressure to
prove herself with difficult touring, hotels, and out of control
heroin. All was right with the world while on stage – but what
happens when the performance is over and you are alone with no
audience cheering your name? Romance and healing travels can't stave
off enablers, burning the torch at both ends at Woodstock, and a
difficult Texas return. Joplin had an intuitive need to go on singing
everybody's blues because she thought nobody cared anyway. If you
somehow don't know how her story ends, viewers can tell it won't end
well despite the sweet, sweet music along the way.
This is a personal retelling sans narrator with a superb finale – a
bittersweet biography always worth revisiting to appreciate the pain
and sadness behind great rock and roll.

Last Shop Standing: The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of the Independent Record Shop – This 2013
British hour based on the book of same name chronicles the resilience
of the mom and pop music shop from the early days of 78s and mass
copies of Elvis, The Beatles, and The Rolling Stones to the rise of
Punk Rock, The Clash, independent record distribution, and recent
retail upheavals. The conversational style recalls the popular hang
outs, listening booths, and allowances spent on singles with
rivalries over too many shops in the same town before the eighties
hype salesmen and manipulating chart sales changing who was hot and
what stock to order. The record business was good even into the
nineties, and interviewees make an interesting case on whether it was
wise to decrease the quality of vinyl and kill records all together
in favor of the supposedly sounding better, unbreakable, and space
saving Compact Disc rather than just letting the mediums coexist.
Because, of course, physical CD sales are down now and records are
back – and the niche market never really left if you knew where to
shop. Small profits, expensive overhead, and the advent of streaming
in the new millennium led to shuttered shops amid big box store price
wars and the ease of instantaneous music. Listeners now think in
terms of cheap, even free or illegal individual songs rather than the
expense of an entire album, however vinyl stores still cater to
customers with their personality and knowledgeability, appreciating
the difference between discovering a treasure to love instead of the
intangible cloud. Some of the business talk or British slang might be
confusing to some, but this is a very informative recounting of the
industry history as, pun intended, what comes around goes around –
chain stores weigh music sales on price versus floor space and often
don't have what consumers want. While some indie record stores are
surviving, others featured here closed during filming and the fate of
any stand alone shop remains uncertain even as music companies are
re-releasing vinyl or issuing new music on deluxe LPs and popularity
increases with connections on social media and Record Store Day
celebrations. This might have been neat as a longer series touring
the shops seen here, but it's a nice snapshot of the music business
in the last forty years with a unique spin on appreciating the
ongoing vinyl legacy.

12 December 2017

Welcome
to our new Top Tens series in celebration of I
Think, Therefore I Review's
Tenth Anniversary! These monthly lists will highlight special themes
and topics from our extensive archive of reviews.

I
Think, Therefore I Review began
as the blog home for previously published reviews and reprinted
critiques by horror author Kristin Battestella. Naturally older
articles linked here may be out of date and codes or formatting may
be broken. Please excuse any errors and remember our Top Tens will
generally only include films, shows, books, or music previously
reviewed at I
Think, Therefore I Review.

11 December 2017

The
2012 Luther Vandross: The
Classic Christmas Album compilation
is a smooth collection of mellow holiday standards, new hits, and
rare recordings beginning with a sophisticated adult welcome in The
Christmas Song.
This track was originally
included on A Very Special
Christmas 2 in
1992, and it's perfect for a contemporary
cocktail party or effortless office holiday radio play. My
Favorite Things likewise
takes a ditty with somewhat juvenile if charming lyrics and makes it
mature. Although some of the keyboard orchestration is dated and the
song goes on for too long at almost six minutes, rather than
something comical this brims with grown up nostalgia reminiscing on
all the sweets, treats, and seasonal magic. Of course, the mellow
Have Yourself a Merry Little
Christmas is
on point with recognizable piano melodies and slow measures befitting
the blossoming long notes and sad brass interlude for a breathy big
finish.

Those
of us who were around then will enjoy the hip holiday original The
Mistletoe Jam (Everybody Kiss Somebody),
however younger audiences might not appreciate this dated mid
nineties groove that's also a little out of place between two slower
tracks. I keep thinking rude millennials would
lol wut at the opening
dialogue about kissing under the mistletoe leading to having twins.
Fortunately, this remains toe tapping for some dad dancing about the
tree trimming or an impromptu Electric Slide after too much egg nog.
The
tender With a
Christmas Heart references
all the seasonal staples – angels, love, gifts, togetherness –
with big octaves and smooth crescendos. The near operatic bellows and
soft spoken dialogue balance the tearful weight before the
lighthearted fun of the I
Listen to the Bells duet
with Darlene Love. This is the
longest tune on The Classic
Christmas Album at
over six minutes, and
that is all right with me as the upbeat festive refrains and
contrasting holiday break up lyrics standout as a distinctive sixties
but no less timeless sound. It's surprising Vandross only did one
Christmas album and television special, as today there would be a
streaming live Event
for all the biggest holiday duets with each of the top vocal ladies,
a double CD special, and deluxe LP to match. Damn that would have
been sweet!

A
Kiss for Christmas continues
the seasonal soul and winter romance with more mood for audiences of
a certain age. The nineties styling is again slightly repetitive –
too much of the orchestration sounds too alike on several tracks.
However the chorus and ad libs are still darn catchy. Every
Year, Every Christmas better
captures the lovelorn December blues with a unique, effortless melody
from frequent collaborator Richard Marx. It's easy to sway to the
beat as your lip trembles at this bittersweet single, making for a
great combination of holiday lyrics and any time of year power
balladry. Sing it, Luther! This Is Christmas adds
more Christmas spirit with hallelujahs,
healing, and love because this is the perfect time of year to do so.
Uplifting choir
heights and heaps of sentimental positivity bring gospel glory and
the first religious power to The
Classic Christmas Album. In
contrast, Please Come Home for Christmas is
theshortest track
here, and it feels like we just hear this same saccharin plea two
songs ago. It's a lovely little holiday invitation for a love reunion
continuing the mature, adults only theme of the album – Vandross
knows his lovelorn wheelhouse and sticks to it. It's ironic then that
the songs branching away from the formula are the best ones on The
Classic Christmas Album.

Lone
carol O' Come All Ye
Faithful originally
concluded 1995's This
is Christmas, of
which The
Classic Christmas Album is
sort of a reissue along with the previously re-released Home
for Christmas. Fitting
big notes, backing choirs, and gospel arrangements combine with the
Vandross velvet pacing for a proper reverence. I wish there were more
carols just to hear them so breathy smooth tenor – especially if
they would all sound like this! Stay
with me now, however, as all three
of these holiday albums have different track listings, with “This
is Christmas,” “Mistletoe Jam,” “Every Year, Every
Christmas,” and “A Kiss for Christmas” not appearing on the
shorter Home for Christmas.
“The Christmas Song” is not on This
is Christmas, nor are the
three bonuses concluding The
Classic Christmas Album, beginning
with the previously unreleased Have
Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
live duet with Chaka Khan. No listener is going to mind having the
same song twice because hot damn. That is all that needs to be said
on that one, and a gain, I'm shocked no one ever thought of
capitalizing on Luther's duet popularity with an entire Christmas
album of big duos.

Two
odd singles from 1976 finish The
Classic Christmas Album, and
May Christmas Bring
You Happinessis
most definitely mid seventies. Fortunately, it's Hustle-esque
orchestration fits the holiday love missive with an upbeat, almost
tropical carefree. This could have been in the middle of the session,
breaking up the heavy nineties sound with a different jingle to the
jazzy. LikewiseAt
Christmas Time has
an older but no less sweet soul with Luther inviting us to hug close
and turn the holiday lights down low. Are there more unreleased or
lost holiday tunes from Vandross? If so, someone needs to make
another Christmas album re-issue ASAP. This isn't a set to which we
sing along but rather a late night December listen for when mom and
dad have put the kids to bed. The
Classic Christmas Album is
longer than previous
Luther holiday releases, and although This
is Christmas is also
available for streaming and download, this collection feels like the
more complete album. At over an hour,Luther Vandross: The Classic Christmas Albumhas
more than enough holiday élan
for a candlelit dinner or any other sophisticated festivities.

07 December 2017

Stateside
or British, these Victorian, turn of the last century, and post war
dramatizations, documentaries, and biographies have heaps of period
decorum, famous names, and family friendly bookishness thanks to
Agatha, Emily, Louisa, and Sherlock.

Louisa May Alcott: The Woman Behind Little Women – This American
Masters ninety minute
documentary separates the fact from fiction with first hand
accounts, re-enactments, and historical scenery. To the camera
recitations add realism while narrations and scholarly interviews
create a balanced point/counterpoint detailing Louisa's wild girl
childhood and radical upbringing – The Alcotts believed in
abolition, women's rights, transcendentalism, and equal education to
bloom a child's mind rather than break young spirits. Such religious
and racial taboos outcast the family onto tough times and their
nineteenth century hippies on a commune Utopian intellectualism leads
to starvation, humiliation, small pox, slums, and poverty as the cost
of their reform. Louisa wrote of her overworked mother before Concord
happiness and hobnobbing with Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel
Hawthorne, and Henry David Thoreau – experiences high and low
inspiring her determination. Early short stories and attempts at the
stage come amid her sister Beth's terrible death, and this depressing
time and subsequent gruesome, traumatizing Civil War nursing and
suicidal thoughts are reflected in her later fiction. Alcott declined
marriage proposals to keep her independence, and therapeutic writings
led to literary success in new magazines and paying newspapers
looking for her anonymous, fast turn around, serialized thrillers.
Louisa herself preferred the vicariously lurid on the page to her
mercenary children's literature – women weren't supposed to write
that sort of thing and most of this adult material went undiscovered
until after her death with evidence of yet more lost works. Trips to
Europe and potential flings in Paris become inspirations for some of
her famed characters while questions of possible bipolar disorders,
manic depression, or undiagnosed lupus linger thanks to her extreme
periods of creativity between months of physical inability. The
surprise success of Little Womenallowed
her to enjoy later laurels, but opium, morphine, and other
alternative medicinal cures did little to curb the nonetheless
prolific Alcott's declining health at thirty-eight. This in depth
documentary makes the semi-autobiographical tag of Little Women
seem like a small, saccharin
sampling, as there is far more to the author indeed.

Mr. Holmes– Ian McKellan's (Lord of the Rings) ninety-three
year old detective pursues the case that got away in this 2015 tale
opening with superb locomotives, vintage automobiles, quaint
cottages, and country mood. The eponymous crusty old passenger is a
relic, with bleak music matching the weary toll after a long trip to
Japan. There's a hunch to his back, a cane, and a grovel to his voice
– feeble friends have gone to live with family but Mr. Holmes is
still sharp. He notices a decrease in his bee population and evidence
on the stair steps, digging into vintage photographs and cursive
notes as he writes down memories he is forgetting and tries to recall
one particular client. Holmes is writing the story we see in
flashbacks to thirty years prior – but these snippets represent the
confused mind, a blurring of fact and fiction as the film also goes
back to the recent Japanese quest. Is Holmes forgetting the details
or not telling what he knows as he dispels myths about his famous cap
and pipe? One must identify the problem and solve it, and if he
can't, then is it time to move to a care home? The past shows us a
younger, distinguished detective charming his way into a room,
smoothing both clients and witnesses and remaining swift even as
people doubt the real man because he doesn't match the detective on
the page. Despite a terrible accent, housekeeper Laura Linney (The
Big C) doesn't want her son too attached to Holmes – an
increasingly difficult old man with liver spots once so suave in a
top hat but now idle in striped pajamas and clinging to dignity by
writing forgotten names on his inner left cuff. The hard facts of a
case don't explain a client's behavior or feelings, and upsetting
moments help Holmes learn how his acerbic thoroughness isn't always
what a person needs. This regret of old and final growth before one's
inevitable completion is not an introductory piece. Viewers should be
familiar with the character, and the timeline back and forth may be
confusing to audiences who can't tell the post war settings apart.
The unreliable narrator fictionalizing a past account with other
point of views within may also be a frame too many, and some of the
storylines are uneven in a busy patchwork of
illicit meetings, poisons, false drawer bottoms, and hidden gloves.The art imitating life vice
versa works better with Holmes reading Watson's dreadful prose and
going to see stereotypical Sherlock Holmes adaptations on the silver
screen – putting him face to face with his mortality as he weeps at
his inability to recall the truth. Palm readings and the scandalous
touching a lady's bare hand are vividly shot as the bittersweet
detective looks directly at the screen to say he can't remember it.
Such old Father Christmas passing the torch to the New Year babe
mature is meant for adult viewers who can understand the frailty,
child loss, old habits dying hard, and last piece of unfinished
business. Though somewhat flawed in its constructs, the period
touches and layered nuance from McKellan keep this little drama
charming.

The Mystery of Agatha Christie
– Poirot star
David Suchet hosts this 2014 documentary hour taking a deeper look at
the woman behind the best selling author via lovely on location
scenery, tours of the Christie Archive, and sit down interviews with
family, historians, and biographers. Private photographs, childhood
poems, handwritten notes, and original typed short stories add to the
inside nostalgia alongside home movie screenings, memoir readings,
and quotes from Christie's writings defining the recluse versus the
crime queen. Sit down chats with Suchet and experts waxing on
Christie's nightmares and love of swimming are grounded with rare
video interviews, audio clips, and drives to the Devon beaches in
vintage cars as period newspapers and slides follow the time line
from her unusual upbringing at Ashfield and financial difficulties
after her father's death to coming out parties, marriage, and wartime
nursing in Torquay. Dartmoor inspirations, learning to surf, and the
birth of her daughter Rosalind become defining experiences amid the
first Poirot publications and future mystery staples such as poison
breaking the rules of the detective genre. Christie's global travel
is well documented, however the dark emotional crisis stemming from
the Nancy Neil affair and the death of her mother remains unexplained
in Christie's autobiography, and Suchet and Co. debate her Mary
Westmacott novels and the infamous ten day disappearance before
Christie's rebirth in Istanbul and subsequent literary heights. The
Miss Marple stories and mixing of exotic tales with English comfort
helped heal the nation during World War II, followed by renewed
paperback masses and more recent manuscript discoveries. One and all
describe Christie with warmth, kindness, and gratitude – yet she
remains an enigma. The segments here don't go chapter by chapter and
book by book, but focus on the insights into the person rather than
the literature. Although this may not be anything new for Agatha
enthusiasts, this pleasing compliment to the author provides an
intimate, personal touch in spite of its shorter, classroom perfect
run time. For more fun, also see David
Suchet on the Orient Express.

An
Unfortunate Skip

A Quiet Passion
– Colorful interiors, lovely firelight, charming costumes, and
early photography set off Cynthia Nixon (Sex
and the City)
as Emily Dickinson in this 2016 biopic from writer and director
Terence Davies (The Deep Blue Sea).
Unfortunately, the trying to be ye olde dialogue is immediately
wooden and pretentious. Reading Victorian text isn't the same as
speaking it, and every pursed lips conversation is unintentionally
humorous with one heavy handed religious browbeating after another
dragging the pace. The first twenty minutes of redundant
precociousness could have been cut as the so called ungrateful Emily
is continually chastised into the adult transition scenes. The
unnecessary sassy sounding board BFF says they are trying to be
ironic, but the tone is thick with oppression, obnoxious women, and
fussiness. The audience feels the bitter we read from Dickinson,
however nothing happens to intrigue the viewer – no scandalous
publication nor shocking lesbianism. Some pains and health issues are
mentioned, but the inconsequential in her own life Emily merely
watches time go by amid awkward family marriages or falling flat war
drama. Subtly defiant moments are far better, such as Emily asking
her father to stay up at night to write in the quiet or smashing his
dirty plate because it can't be soiled if it is broken. Voiceover
rejections of her too common womanly rhyme lead to feverish writing
with one acceptance and an anonymous publication, yet the poetry is
apparently not
the
point of this piece? Should be funny tea with the water only
minister's wife and witty arguments about Longfellow or The Brontes
are too few and far between, disservicing Nixon by never fully
letting the bittersweet come across. Emily's unloved stoicism and
ugly feelings because no one wants her poetry anchor the final forty
minutes as the eccentricities come to the forefront, and the poetry
narrations answer as others question why she thinks her life is so
bad, complains about them leaving, doesn't go anywhere, and pushes
people away. The dream sequence/veiled masturbation interlude is a
bit much, and time transitions leave large life gaps – unless we
are to believe that her brother's affair is the most important thing
to ever happen to Emily Dickinson. Viewers can't come into this
expecting answers, and simply put, reading about Dickinson and her
work does far more.

Kristin?

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